


Teacher's Pet

by eatingcroutons



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ilvermorny, Background Credence Barebone & Original Percival Graves, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 10:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9067909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatingcroutons/pseuds/eatingcroutons
Summary: For the FBAWTFT kinkmeme prompt: Credence/Graves Ilvermorny au, dub con blow jobPlease heed the warnings. Credence is a 17-year-old student at Ilvermorny, and asks his favourite teacher for a favour. Unbeknownst to him, the Percival Graves he thinks he's talking to is Grindelwald in disguise. And Grindelwald doesn't hesitate to take advantage of the pretty, vulnerable opportunity that's fallen into his lap.





	

Credence stands in front of Mr Graves’s door for a long moment before he works up the courage to knock.

“Yes?”

“Sir it’s Credence – Credence Barebone. I wanted to ask – are you busy right now?”

He hears footsteps from within the office, then the door swings open. “Sorry Barebone, I’m in the middle of –” Mr Graves pauses, looking Credence up and down. He smiles.

“Sir?”

“ _Barebone_. Of course, I’m sorry. What can I do for you?” Mr Graves’s hand is warm and firm on his shoulder as he ushers Credence into his office. The door clicks shut behind them, and Credence relaxes a little.

Mr Graves’s office is quiet except for the steady tick of the clock on his wall. He leans back against the edge of his desk and folds his arms.

“Is everything all right?”

Credence looks down at Mr Graves’s shoes, nods. “Um. Yes sir. I mean – yes, but Ma – my mother – I asked her to sign the consent form for the field trip, to MACUSA.” Credence glances up for a moment.

“She said no.”

“She – she said she didn’t want anything to do with – with anything _unnatural_. With what happens at my _wicked school_.” When he looks up again Mr Graves is frowning.

“Credence. You know there’s nothing unnatural about what you are, don’t you?”

Credence nods, looking back down at Mr Graves’s shoes. “I know sir.”

“Good.” Credence flinches when Mr Graves takes him by the shoulders, but Mr Graves’s touch is warm, gentle. He strokes his thumbs over Credence’s shirt. “Being a wizard is a gift, Credence. No matter what your mother tries to tell you.”

Credence nods again, taking a long, shaky breath. “Sir, I was wondering – since my mother is a no-maj, I heard – a teacher can sign my form instead?”

Mr Graves’s hands still on his shoulders. Credence freezes, and risks a glance up.

Mr Graves is frowning slightly. “Well… technically, yes. Although there would have to be exceptional circumstances…” He drops his hands, and Credence feels suddenly unsteady without his touch.

“Please, sir – you know my Ma would never – I don’t have anyone else –”

“Shh.” Mr Graves clasps the nape of his neck, and Credence closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s all right, Credence. I can help you.”

Credence looks up. “Sir – _thank you_ sir, I –“

“But.” Mr Graves’s grip tightens fractionally on his neck. “If I do this for you, I think it’s only fair that you do something for me in return, hmm?”

Credence nods, searching his face. “Of course – sir, I’m happy to help. Anything you need.”

Mr Graves smiles, just like he does whenever Credence gets a difficult question right in class. “Good boy. Come over here.”

Mr Graves takes Credence’s hand and leads him around his desk, to his big leather office chair. He sits down, leaning his head back and smiling up at Credence.

“Have you ever had a girlfriend, Credence?”

“Sir?”

“Boyfriend, then?”

Credence freezes. “Sir, I –“

“Shh, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell your mother.”

Credence forces himself to take a breath, to fight down the panic. Mr Graves takes his hand, strokes a thumb over the inside of his wrist, and Credence tries to match his breathing to the movement.

When he meets Mr Graves’s eyes, the man is still smiling softly. “All right Credence?”

Credence breathes out and nods.

“Good boy. Now, can you get on your knees for me?”

“I… sir?”

Mr Graves pulls gently on his hand. “Just here. Can you kneel down in front of me, Credence?”

Credence nods again, confused, and awkwardly gets to his knees between Mr Graves’s spread thighs. Mr Graves slides a hand into his hair and Credence leans into the touch.

“Perfect.” Credence can’t help smiling at the praise. “Tell me, Credence, do you know what fellatio means?”

Credence frowns, trying to place the word, but coming up blank. He bites his lip, mind racing – had he missed something in potions class? He’s sure he can remember it if Mr Graves will just give him a moment to –

“Credence. It’s all right.” Mr Graves’s voice is soothing, and he strokes his fingers through Credence’s hair, letting his hand come to rest on Credence’s shoulder. “Maybe you’ve heard of it by another term: oral sex.”

Credence feels his face flush. Of course he’s heard of – the other boys talk, of course they do, but the idea is so _filthy_ he feels sinful even thinking about it. He bites his lip harder, willing the dirty thoughts away – but once the idea’s in his mind it’s all he can think about. And right in front of him is Mr Graves – Mr Graves’s – Credence shuts his eyes, shakes his head.

“I don’t think about – those things.” His voice comes out in a whisper.

“You don’t?” Mr Graves tugs at his hair, tilting his head back gently. “Never? Not once?”

Credence shakes his head again, as much as he can in Mr Graves’s grip, then freezes when he feels a touch to his lower lip.

“I’d like you to think about it now, Credence. In return for signing your consent form, I’d like you to suck my dick. Do you think you can do that?”

Credence’s stomach drops. His eyes fly open.

“Sir?”

Mr Graves still has one hand cupping the back of Credence’s head, and he presses his other thumb more firmly over Credence’s lips. “Shh.” Credence feels his heart rate pick up, trapped in place by Mr Graves’s hands. “I’d be doing you a very special favour, signing that form. I’m just asking you to do one for me in return. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Credence’s head spins. How can Mr Graves even – doesn’t he know it’s _wrong_? If Ma ever found out – Credence bites his tongue to suppress a whimper at the thought.

“Credence?” Mr Graves moves his thumb, sliding it along Credence’s lower lip. “You _do_ want me to sign your consent form, don’t you? It’s all right. We’ll keep this a secret between us.”

Mr Graves pushes with his thumb until the pad of it rubs against Credence’s teeth; he instinctively opens his mouth a little, swipes his tongue over the tip.

“That’s the idea.” Credence feels his face flush again. He can’t meet Mr Graves’s eyes.

“Or,” Mr Graves says, and suddenly his hands are gone, leaving Credence reeling. “Maybe you’re not that interested in visiting MACUSA after all. We’ll just have to send you home instead, with some extra reading to do.”

Credence clutches at Mr Graves’s knees. “No sir, please. I – I want to go on the field trip, I can…” He swallows, trying to avoid looking anywhere near Mr Graves’s belt. “I can… do what you asked,” he finishes, cheeks burning with shame.

Mr Graves smiles. “I know you can, Credence. I wouldn’t ask you otherwise.” He runs his hand through Credence’s hair again. “I’m going to take my belt off now.”

Credence drops his gaze to the carpet, gripping Mr Graves’s knees. He breathes deep, in and out, but can’t help flinching when he hears the buckle clink. He closes his eyes and bites his tongue at the rasp of leather sliding free, reminding himself that he’s safe here. That it’s only Mr Graves.

He’s not sure how much time passes before there’s a gentle hand in his hair again, coaxing his head up. He takes a shuddering breath and opens his eyes.

Mr Graves’s other hand is on his… Credence swallows. His cock. Right in front of Credence’s face.

Credence tries to jerk his head away, but Mr Graves holds him firm. It’s – it’s _obscene_ , thick and flushed dark and so big, even in Mr Graves’s large hand, and he can’t – he mustn’t – it’s _wrong_ , he needs to – he squeezes his eyes shut, panting for breath.

“Credence.” Mr Graves’s tone is deep, soothing, as he smooths fingers over Credence’s scalp. Credence tries to shake his head again, but again Mr Graves holds him still.

“Mr Graves I – I can’t, I –”

“Shh, shh. Breathe, Credence. Take a deep breath for me.”

Credence tries. Inhales over the count of three, and then exhales over five. Mr Graves’s hand steadies him, keeps him in place.

“There you go. You’re all right. How about you keep your eyes closed for the moment?”

Credence nods, squeezing his eyes shut even tighter. There’s a soft chuckle from above him.

“All right. You keep your eyes closed, and I’ll show you what to do.” Mr Graves’s grip shifts in Credence’s hair, and then he’s being guided forward. He tries to keep his breathing even, to trust Mr Graves.

Something nudges against his lips and he jerks in Mr Graves’s hold.

“Shh. You’re all right. Just stay right there, and open your mouth. All right, Credence?”

Credence’s pulse races at the tone of Mr Graves’s voice – but he does as he’s told. That soft pressure nudges against his lips again and he fights down a shiver.

“Well done, Credence. Now, can you try licking for me? Like you did before.”

Credence tries it, presses forward with his tongue, and tastes salt as he licks over – as he licks. Mr Graves gives a deep sigh.

“ _Good_ , Credence. Just like that. You just keep licking like that.”

Credence can’t swallow easily with his mouth open. He licks again, and again, trying to avoid letting any drool escape down his chin but when a drop spills over his lip he instinctively presses forwards to suck it back up.

Mr Graves gasps, fingers clenching in Credence’s hair. “That’s it. Just like that, Credence.”

Credence does shiver this time. The echo of Ma’s voice is still telling him _wrong, wrong, wrong_ , but it’s easier to focus on Mr Graves holding him, Mr Graves telling him what to do. He pulls back far enough to swallow, then opens his mouth again.

This time the pressure is more insistent. Mr Graves pushes until Credence’s lips are stretched wide around his flesh. Credence breathes in through his nose and sucks, then licks again. Mr Graves groans.

“Good boy, Credence. Good boy.” Credence’s cheeks flush as he sucks, and Mr Graves groans again. “Stay right there for me, all right?”

Mr Graves doesn’t wait for a response – just pushes forward again, as Credence struggles to open his mouth wider still. Mr Graves keeps going until Credence’s whole mouth is full, and Credence tries not to wince as he feels tears form at the corners of his eyes.

“Looks like that’s about as much as you can manage, hmm?” Mr Graves’s voice is just a little breathless. “All right. I’m going to use your mouth like this. And I want you to keep licking and sucking, as much as you can. Do you understand, Credence?”

Credence is trembling, jaw already stretched uncomfortably wide, and he’s not sure how he’s supposed to respond. He tries nodding, just a little, and Mr Graves’s cock presses uncomfortably close to the back of his throat. He stops moving, taking another deep breath through his nose.

“Good boy. And watch those teeth.” Mr Graves places his other hand in Credence’s hair, uses both hands to tug Credence’s head back. Credence has half a second to let his jaw relax before he’s pulled forwards, almost choking as Mr Graves’s cock presses all the way back to his throat.

Mr Graves repeats the movement, again, and then again, and Credence struggles to keep his aching jaw wide. He feels a tear roll down his cheek, then another, and it’s all he can do not to try to pull away. He focuses on breathing through his nose, in between Mr Graves’s thrusts. It’s a long time before he realises he hasn’t been trying to lick or suck at all.

He tries sucking as Mr Graves pushes in. Mr Graves groans, yanking him forwards – and Credence gags, choking, eyes opening wide as he frantically tries to push back from Mr Graves’s knees. It’s only a moment before Mr Graves lets go of his head, but as soon as he does Credence falls backwards onto his heels, coughing and spluttering as he tries to suck in lungfuls of air. He blinks and blinks, trying to focus through the tears in his eyes.

Mr Graves is resting his hands on his thighs, and he’s frowning.

“Credence,” he says, shaking his head. “You were doing so well.”

“I’m –” Credence’s voice sounds as raw as his throat feels. “I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry. I can try again.”

Mr Graves stares down at him. Credence looks away, biting his lip, silently begging for a second chance.

“No.” Credence looks up, panicked, but Mr Graves continues: “Let’s try something a little different. Give me your hand, Credence.”

His fingers are stiff from where they’ve been clutching Mr Graves’s knee, but Credence holds out his right hand, palm up.

Mr Graves takes his wrist, tugs it forward, and then uses his other hand to curl Credence’s fingers around his cock. It’s solid, warm, and the skin is surprisingly soft. Credence doesn’t dare look at it.

“Now. I want you to stroke me, just the way you’d stroke yourself. All right, Credence?”

Credence bites his lip, cheeks burning. He’s only ever – usually he can control it, but the one time he had actually touched himself Ma had been so furious he’d had to sleep on his stomach for a week. He pushes the thought away, focuses on what he needs to do.

He moves his hand up, feeling the skin slide over the shaft, and Mr Graves makes an encouraging noise. Credence tries it again, down then up, glancing up at Mr Graves’s face.

Mr Graves’s expression sends a jolt right down Credence’s spine. His eyes are dark, intense, and there’s a twist to his lip Credence has never seen before. “Good boy,” he whispers, smirk deepening as he reaches out to slide his fingers into Credence’s hair again.

Credence drops his gaze to the knot of Mr Graves’s tie, swallowing hard. He focusses on moving his hand. The room is so quiet – he can still hear the tick of the clock, and Mr Graves’s breathing. As he keeps stroking Mr Graves’s breaths start to become shallower, more irregular.

Mr Graves starts pulling his head forwards again and Credence resists, speeding up his hand even as his stomach churns, but the hand on his head shows no mercy.

“Good boy,” Mr Graves rasps. “Just a little more. Don’t stop stroking. But I want your mouth on me as well.”

Credence whimpers, shaking his head. His throat still aches, still spasms when he remembers the feeling of choking, suffocating. He can’t – can’t do that again.

“Shh. Not like before. You’re just going to suck on the end for me, while you keep stroking. Open your mouth.”

Credence shudders but does what he’s told, closing his eyes. Mr Graves puts a hand over the one Credence has on his cock, stilling it, at the same time as he pulls Credence’s head forwards. Credence breathes frantically through his nose, but after an inch or so Mr Graves stops, just the head of his cock resting in Credence’s mouth.

“See? You’re all right.” Credence shivers and wishes it were true. “Now, I want you to start stroking again, and sucking at the same time.” Mr Graves drags Credence’s hand up and down his cock, demonstrating, then lets it go.

Credence sucks a breath in through his nose and tentatively starts moving his hand again. The angle is awkward, bent over like this, but he manages to get it after a few strokes.

He focusses on what he’s doing, tries to block everything else out. Keeps moving his hand. Keeps sucking, swallowing the salty, bitter taste that sometimes washes over his tongue. Tries not to wince as the hand in his hair tightens, gradually at first but then harder, almost to the point of pain –

Suddenly Credence’s mouth is full of thick, warm liquid and he tries to shout in surprise, muffled by Mr Graves’s cock as Mr Graves holds him firmly in place. Credence can’t cough or spit it out, has no choice but to try to swallow it, the taste almost making him gag as he tries to force it down. His eyes are streaming as he tries to get rid of the taste, swallowing over and over even after there’s nothing left.

When Mr Graves finally lets him go he lets out a sob, then bites his lip to stop any more from escaping. He half slumps onto Mr Graves’s knee, clinging to his trousers.

“There you go. All done.” Mr Graves strokes over his hair and Credence shivers despite himself, desperate for more of that gentle touch. “You did so well, Credence. Thank you.”

Credence nods, throat still thick with the taste of Mr Graves’s release. “You’re. You’re welcome, sir.”

“All right. Up you get, and hand me a copy of that consent form you want signed.”

Credence shivers, pushing himself upright, and shakily gets to his feet. Mr Graves takes a few moments to re-fasten his trousers, then picks up a quill from his desk.

Credence fumbles for the consent form in his jacket pocket, and hands it over. Mr Graves makes short work of unfolding it, signing it with a flourish, and handing it back to Credence with a smile.

“There, you see? _Quid pro quo_ , Credence. Everyone gets what they want.”

Credence looks down at his shoes. “Yes, sir.”

“Excellent. Well, I have essays to grade, so unless there’s something else, Barebone?”

Credence shakes his head quickly. “No sir. Nothing else please. I mean, thank you.”

“All right then. You can see yourself out.”

Credence makes for the door, letting himself out as quickly as he can and fleeing back to the Pukwudgie dorms.

\---

Inside Percival Graves’s office, Grindelwald finds the records he’s looking for in a locked drawer at the bottom of Graves’s desk. He grins to himself, straightening his tie before slipping out the door himself.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're terribly upset by where I left poor Credence here, [SiderumInCaelo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SiderumInCaelo/pseuds/SiderumInCaelo) has written a [follow-up fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11445738/chapters/25652403) that gives him something closer to the ending he deserves :)


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